Page 10 of Bratva Past

“Nah, I’m more into a good book than I am a long, drawn-out movie.”

Isaac laughed. They had found a lovely, shady spot near the pond, with the sound of ducks bathing themselves, and the occasionalquack-quack.

It was hot, and Issac had closed up shop for the day, to just enjoy some time with Lucy. She had arrived around ten, as most of the people at the care home had gone on a trip to the beach and wouldn’t be back for four days. So, for four days, she had time off.

Now, when she told him about this trip, he thought she was going away with them for the four days. He was going to miss her, but he knew how much she loved the people she worked for. He was shocked when she was told there was no room for her on the bus, and all the hotel rooms had been taken. She had to stay behind. That was when he realized Lucy couldn’t go. She couldn’t handle getting in a car, and she wondered if her friends made excuses for her, so they didn’t force her to go.

She lay on her stomach, her feet kicked into the air, swinging back and forth, as she looked at him. Randomly, she’d take a bite out of a strawberry. Her long, brown hair was pulled back into a clip, and the length was curled, as it fell around her face in ringlets.

“Okay, so your favorite author?”

“I love too many to name one,” Lucy said. “You?”

“I don’t read all that much.”

“You don’t?”

“Nah, never had the time to read.”

“What about before you came to Saint Falls?” Lucy asked. “What life did you have before?”

Isaac couldn’t help but have a flash of his past life. The kills he made. The pain he caused. The violence.

“It was kind of boring,” he said.

“It was?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you do?” Lucy asked.

He knew it was only natural to be curious. There was no reason to be suspicious, and leaving that life, coming to a small town would make a lot of people curious about his past.

“I was a ... bodyguard for some people.”

That wasn’t far from the truth. She was not ready to know that in his life before Saint Falls, he was a soldier with the Rostova Bratva. One of the most feared of all that served the Bratva with loyalty. Until they squashed that loyalty and killed his family. She didn’t need to know his past.

“That sounds scary. Is that why you have all the ink?” she asked, pointing to his arms.

He got the ink as a way to hide the scars of the tortures he went through. The school he was forced to attend had their own methods of making men strong, so they wouldn’t crack beneath the torture. Isaac refused to be tortured. He refused to submit. He fought everything.

“I like getting ink,” he said.

“I thought once about getting a tattoo of a dolphin, because I love dolphins. Or of a rose, or of something, you know. Something I like. I even went to the tattoo parlor in town, and I sat in the waiting room, looking through their booklets. Then I chickened out, and I just couldn’t do it.”

Isaac laughed. “Getting ink is not for everyone. It can be painful to some people, for others, not so much.”

“Was it painful for you?” she asked.

“No.”

“You see, I don’t know how that is possible.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Trust me, I can handle a lot of pain.”

He had been repeatedly punched in the face, had his balls and stomach kicked, all to make a man out of him. She didn’t need to know any of that. Getting ink was easy compared to some of the things he experienced.

“Do you think I should get a tattoo?” she asked.

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